


Balance, Part Two

by aslanbrooke



Series: Endgame, Expanded [4]
Category: Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Post-Endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:06:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28125837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aslanbrooke/pseuds/aslanbrooke
Summary: Cal and Cere finally have that conversation about his destruction of the holocron, some past failings, and the future of the Jedi Order.
Relationships: Cere Junda & Cal Kestis
Series: Endgame, Expanded [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1987489
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	Balance, Part Two

Dantooine, Cal reflects, is the most peaceful planet he’s been to in a long, long time.

Bogano once held that honor, up until he unwittingly led the Empire right to it. That’s something he still hasn’t fully forgiven himself for. How much trouble, he wonders, could they have avoided if they’d just listened to Merrin’s warning about the holocron?

This subject is one he has spent a great deal of time thinking about in the two weeks since its destruction, at Cal’s own hand no less. At least, during his waking hours. Cal has spent a good deal of that time in healing trances, and the time he has spent dedicating to his own recovery is paying off. He’s managed to shed the sling entirely, switch to lower-strength bacta patches, and cut down his usage of healing stims to just one, every other day. Even so, he’s still incredibly sore and it’ll be at least another week before he can begin helping with anything that involves manual labor beyond what he can do at his workbench. 

With his entrance and exit wounds closed, at least on the outside, Cal has finally been allowed a little bit more physical activity. He’s just started running through basic katas again, and only in slow motion, as he regains the strength and mobility in his left side. Such activity is allowed only in small doses; he spends far more time in healing trances or meditating, than he does in his physical preparations.

It is after one such round of physical preparation and meditation that Cal makes his way back to the ship and immediately ducks into the ‘fresher. Greez has finally repaired the wavelength controls for the sonic, but Cal still finds it uncomfortable against his healing wound. Therefore, he switches on the water mode, hoping that the soothing heat will melt away all his aches and pains from the day, be they physical or not.

It works, but only partially. The healing muscles in his chest and back relax, but Cal’s mind is no quieter than it was before he hopped in the shower. The meditation session he’d forced himself into after his daily physical exercises had not been nearly as fruitful as he had hoped. Instead, it had merely led to a repeat of the nightmare he’d awoken from earlier this morning.

Such nightmares are a common occurrence for Cal. If it’s not watching his Master fall defending him from the clones, then it’s a replay of his vision from the vault on Bogano, wherein the nameless Padawans are struck down by the Empire before he himself becomes his own worst enemy. This morning, it was a combination of the two: Master Tapal shaking his head, trying and failing to get his Apprentice to save the Padawans before he, too, falls to the enemy.

For Cal, such a nightmare is like watching history repeat itself. No matter what he does, the Order always falls. And he has a feeling that’s why he suffered this particular nightmare in the first place.

His increased meditation has led him to ruminate on a subject he can’t avoid: what, exactly, caused the Order to fall? Really, he’s done nothing *but* agonize over it ever since it actually happened, but Merrin’s words to him, the events that followed, and his subsequent decision have led him to really take a long, hard look at the Order he once belonged to; not just its destruction, but everything that led to it.

Maybe the hot water actually is helping, or maybe it’s the completion of their mission, or it could just be the air on Dantooine, because Cal finds he is able to think far more clearly about the subject than he has in the past. He runs through the actual cleansing portion of the shower automatically, his mind on other things, going as far back as he can remember. Cal’s older crechemates had been taught that the Sith had been eradicated; it was only a year before his birth that the teachers had been proven wrong with the arrival of Darth Maul, whom Cal is certain was a former Nightbrother--something to ask Merrin about. Then Count Dooku,  _ Darth Tyrannus, _ was revealed ten years later. 

Cal isn’t sure how he knows, but of one thing, he is absolutely certain: Dooku’s counterpart, the other half of the Rule of Two, was hiding in plain sight as Chancellor Palpatine. It makes sense; Bracca may have been isolated but even it received broadcasts from Coruscant. Cal heard Palpatine’s declaration on a replay with his own ears, and he can still hear it clearly, even now:

_ “The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated...the Jedi rebellion has been foiled...the Republic will be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire!” _

Combine that with the horrifying image of a gleeful old man with yellow eyes and, to Cal, such words paint a picture that is agonizingly clear: that Palpatine is a Sith Lord. Likely Dooku’s Master, given how he survived his ‘kidnapping’ attempt and is now ruling the galaxy as its self-proclaimed Emperor far more effectively than Dooku had as the leader of the Separatists. The question is, how then had the Sith gone unnoticed for so long, right under their very noses?

It’s tempting to blame Palpatine for all of it, it really is, and to some extent that’s true...but, Cal muses as the water shuts off and he steps out of the shower, he would be lying if he said the Jedi didn’t have a part to play in it. Why had it taken an encounter with a Fallen Jedi on Dathomir, following the  _ destruction of the Order, _ to show him that the Jedi were arrogant? If they were wrong about a Sith in their midst, one whom they  _ took orders from, _ what else might they have been wrong about? Cal freely admits he’s attached to all of his crew--and that’s given him strength, not from the Dark Side, but from the Light.

BD-1, who appears to have been standing guard outside the door, beeps out a greeting as Cal emerges from the ‘fresher. Touched by the droid’s overprotective nature and thoughtfulness, Cal is about to respond in kind when he realizes that the greeting was not directed towards him.

“Oh! Uh--hey, Cere.”

It’s just the three of them in the ship; Greez is up top working on a repair and Merrin is hunting for their next meal. The older Jedi in question is seated on the couch, leaning back against the backrest as she closes her eyes and expels a breath. She straightens, though, when she hears his voice and opens her eyes as he approaches.

“Hey, Cal. How are you feeling? You were looking pretty good out there, for someone who was stabbed by a lightsaber only two weeks ago.”

It’s a mark of how far he’s come in those two weeks, when Cal doesn’t even wince as he takes a seat beside her. The hot shower really has helped. He’s still moving slower than he would like, though. “Thanks. I’m feeling a lot better. Less like I’m going to fall apart at the seams or tear anything. Still gotta be careful when I move, though, or it feels like being poked on the inside with a branding wand.”

Cere grimaces. “Well, give it a little more time. I know you’ll be back to feeling yourself again in a month or so.”

A month has never sounded so long. Cal changes the subject. “Have you heard anything from Imperial transmissions?”

“I heard them talking about the damage to the facility before we left the sector for Dantooine, but there’s been nothing since. We’re clear on the other side of the galaxy, so it sounds like it’s been business as usual out here.”

That’s promising, at least. The news of two Jedi who caused so much damage to the Fortress Inquisitorius hasn’t travelled clear across the galaxy. But then, given the secrecy that surrounds the Inquisitorius, Cal isn’t sure how much it would. And it certainly doesn’t mean they’re in the clear.

“He’s going to come after us, you know. Vader.”

That  _ is _ something Cal knows Cere has gleaned from her listening in to the Imperial networks. They now know the identity of the Dark Shadow that killed Trilla, and pursued Cal through the Fortress. Darth Vader is a terrifyingly strong mountain of a man--more machine than man, Cal thinks, clenching his own mechanical fist. Or at least he would be, if it weren’t for his overpowering strength in the Force and the anger and hatred Cal remembers pouring off him in waves. He’s the head of the Inquisitorius, and the right-hand man to the Emperor himself, doing the Empire’s dirty work from the shadows and crushing enemies even the highest ranking officers of the Empire can’t manage to handle. The fact that he’s a Sith Lord goes without saying.

And the fact that Cal and Cere have both confronted and escaped from him, in the Sith’s own home turf no less, is equal parts awe-inspiring and downright terrifying.

“I know.” Cere nods, then sighs, for a moment looking much older than she actually is. “We’re...going to have to be careful.  _ Far _ more careful than we were before.”

Cal dips his head, trying  _ not  _ to be overwhelmed by the sheer terror of confronting the Sith again. It’s a big galaxy, but when someone like  _ that _ is hunting you, it just seems inevitable that he will find them, sooner or later. Cal expels a breath, releasing his fears into the Force, and tries to focus on the positive. “At least we don’t have the holocron anymore. He can’t get to those children. Even if he catches us...at least there’s that.”

“At least there’s that,” Cere echoes, staring off into space for a moment before refocusing on the red-headed Knight beside her. “Cal...I know I’ve never said this before, but I feel I should say it now. You were right about the holocron.”

“Really?” Cal has known, since the moment he forced himself to stand up only hours after life-saving surgery, that he was right to destroy the holocron. He’s even known that Cere knows he was right to do it--he saw it in her gaze as he held the then-intact holocron before him. But the holocron meant so much to her, perhaps even more than it did to him, so he’s surprised to hear her admit it.

Cere confesses, “I struggled at first, with your decision to destroy the holocron, but I don’t blame you for it. Merrin was right all along, the children would have been revealed and then hunted if we’d gathered them. We would have had no chance of protecting them against Darth Vader and the entire Imperial Armed Forces. Returning to Nur...showed me that.”

And now that they’re on the subject...there’s no point in avoiding this conversation any longer. There are other things, too, that the two Jedi must talk about. Cal takes a deep breath, and adds, “It’s not just that we couldn’t protect them; it takes years to train Jedi--would we have just spent that time hoping the Empire wouldn’t do anything too awful while we hid a little school for a tiny Jedi army for ten-plus years?” Cal pauses, mostly to make a point. “Or would we have pushed the training harder, accelerated everything even faster than it was accelerated even for me, and forced children onto the battlefield to fight something that the adults can’t handle?”

Cere can’t help it. She flinches.

Good.

Cal recenters himself, and thinks back to his last visit to Bogano. This isn’t going to be an easy conversation, by any means, but it’s one that has to be had. He continues, “I had a vision, in the vault on Bogano. It was a Zeffo sage, and they said, ‘the greater control we sought, the further we fell into ruin.’ That’s exactly what happened with the Jedi; we thought we had everything under control, including the lives of every Knight, Padawan, and Initiate, and look what happened. We thought the Sith were gone, but they were there all along, and we were just too blind to see it. Not only did the Order fall, but so did the Republic and the rest of the galaxy.”

Cere is well aware of this fact; she has spent the past five years living in her own personal hell as a result. Being the older of the two, Cere also has the unfortunate ability to look back and see the warning signs even Cal likely isn’t aware of. So she adds, “With the war, it started falling long before Order 66.”

At that, Cal snorts. He corrects her, “It started falling as soon as Palpatine started plotting, and who knows how long ago that was. Decades, probably.”

Cere does not bother denying this. She thinks on this for a moment, and then muses, “You know, I remember something a friend of mine said, not long before the purge. Do you remember the Padawan who was accused of the hangar bombing?” Cal nods; he was off-planet at the time but he heard about the event--and what happened after. Cere continues, “It was so outrageous that I had a hard time believing it...and then another Padawan came forward, admitting she had done it and spewing vitriol against the Jedi and the Republic. She kept saying the Council was corrupt, that the Republic was falling. You know, she may have gone about it the wrong way, but she was right; the Council’s Force-sight had been clouded by the Dark Side.”

“Exactly,” Cal sighs, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and then immediately straightening when that position places too much pressure on his still-sore ribs and tugs uncomfortably at his still-aching back. “I overheard Master Tapal talking about how he wasn’t sure about some of the decisions they’d been making. It kind of makes sense now, with Palpatine so close to them. They never even knew.”

Cere dips her head in agreement. “We didn’t recognize that there was a problem, even before the war. You know, I was a seeker, Cal. I found Force-sensitive children and brought them to the Temple. We used to find so many more children, before I started. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but Jedi had been leaving or Falling at a much higher rate for years, even before the war, but no one ever addressed it. And the children being brought in, weren’t enough to cover the gap. The number of children we found kept dropping every year.”

“No, I never knew that. Do you think Palpatine had something to do with that?”

“Him, or maybe whoever his Master was. But who knows if a Sith can even do such a thing? As Jedi, we don’t know much about the Dark Side and how it works.”

And that segues nicely into another conversation Cal knows they need to have. No time like the present.

“You know, Cere, I’m not sure if the Jedi really understood the Force as much as we thought we did--not even the Light Side. Merrin and I talked about that before Nur. The Nightsisters didn’t separate the Force into two sides like we do. To them, it just...is.”

And Cere can understand that. She can. But she can’t just throw away a lifetime of Jedi teaching. “But you’ve felt their power, Cal. You’ve been to Dathomir. Merrin’s power draws from the Dark Side.”

“It doesn’t!”

The strength of Cal’s denial surprises him and, from the looks of it, Cere. But he has spent more time with the Nightsister than he has with anyone else on this ship for the past two weeks, and they have spent that time getting to know one another on a level Cal has never reached, not with anyone else. He suspects the same goes for Merrin. They’re survivors in a way that even Cere can’t understand, and it’s led them to forge a bond unlike anything he has ever experienced. Cal himself doesn’t fully understand it, not yet, so he can’t expect Cere to. But hearing the quick dismissal of Merrin’s abilities, her background, her  _ culture, _ triggers the protective instincts that their quest, and his newfound relationships, have awakened. Merrin has done nothing but prove herself, time and again, and she deserves more than to be judged for the origins of her power--power she has used to save all their lives, including Cere’s.

Still, simply denying it won’t be enough to sway the older Jedi. So Cal takes a deep breath, releasing his anger into the Force, and reaches for an explanation that his comrade will understand.

“Merrin doesn’t see it that way.” Cal thinks back to that conversation that seems like it happened both yesterday and a lifetime ago. “Like I said, the Nightsisters didn’t follow one Side or the other; for them, it was just the magick of Dathomir. From what Merrin says, her powers draw from her emotions--all of them, the lighter ones, and the darker ones. The universe needs both to survive.”

Cere raises an eyebrow. “Are you telling me the Nightsisters were balanced?”

Cal challenges her, “Are you telling me they’re not?”

To that, the older Jedi says nothing. Perhaps because, deep down, she has no way to refute it.

When it becomes apparent that no response is forthcoming, Cal blows out a breath, ignoring the way it makes his chest twinge uncomfortably. He has a point to make here, and he’s not done making it. He picks up right where he left off. “Emotions are natural. You  _ need _ passion to really have  _ compassion,  _ which is something the Jedi were supposed to have for everyone, right? How can we really be a part of the rest of the galaxy if we divorce ourselves from it? Maybe if Jedi didn’t have to choose between their feelings and their dedication to the Order, cut themselves off from something that should have been natural, maybe it wouldn’t have resulted in so many Jedi leaving and falling.”

He has a point. He really doesn. Cere takes a deep breath, and considers her response before opening her mouth. “Cal, you have a point. But for Jedi--you saw how tempting the Dark Side is. How hard it is to come back. If we jump off that cliff, there’s no guarantee we’ll come back.”

“So we don’t jump.” Cal’s frank response is matter-of-fact, as if the solution is a no-brainer. To him, it is. “We’re looking at it the wrong way. I remember learning, way back when I was an Initiate, that it’s all a matter of perspective. Cliffs to some are rolling hills to others.”

“You’re thinking of the Light Side and the Dark Side as rolling hills?”

“Maybe we should just think of them as one hill range instead. And,” Cal adds, a small smile gracing his features. “It’s not like we’d be going in blind. We have Merrin; we wouldn’t be jumping off anything. Even if she can’t pass on her magick, I think she’d be happy to share as much of her culture as she can.”

Teach them about the Dark Side? Cere can’t help it--she’s instantly wary, and Cal can see it in the set of her shoulders, in the way she draws herself in. He hastens to reassure her, “That doesn't mean I want to learn Electric Judgment or anything like that. But if we’re going to fight the people who draw their power  _ only _ from darker emotions, then we need to understand what we’re fighting, and  _ why _ they’re fighting the way they do.”

And Cere has to admit--Cal makes a valid point. Gaining an understanding of the Dark Side--or the darker part of the Force, if Cal’s reasoning about ‘one hill range’ turns out to be true--may be the edge they need. Fear of the unknown can be crippling, whereas knowledge is power; and gaining knowledge of what they fear may remove its power over them. But it’s dangerous. As someone who has fallen to the Dark Side, however briefly, and experienced the devastation it can wreak upon the psyche, Cere knows that better than most--far better than Cal will ever (hopefully) realize. She knows its seductive power. So, too, did another former Jedi, whom Cal only recently met.

“Cal, that is likely how Malicos started out, when he first crashed on Dathomir. And look what it did to him.”

As the Jedi who confronted Malicos, Cal is well aware that this is a strong possibility. The former Jedi likely did not fall overnight. He will have to ask Merrin to be sure, but it was likely a drawn-out process borne from fresh betrayal and increasing hopelessness as the former Jedi Master failed to find a way off-planet. And that’s why he’s certain that they won’t suffer the same fate that Taron Malicos did.

“That’s true, Cere. But we’re not Malicos. We’re not in the position he was in. We’re not trapped on a planet so strong in the Force, so... _ wrapped up _ in anger and passion. We’re not in shock over the purge. And Merrin, she’s changed. I felt her echoes, Cere--she’s not the same traumatized survivor that she was when she first encountered Malicos.”

All of that is...true, Cere realizes. They’re not facing the same obstacles that Malicos faced--in some ways, they’ve already overcome trials far worse than anything even Malicos ever faced. With that realization, Cere’s conviction wavers. It’s  _ been _ wavering ever since Cal discovered the truth of her past. Perhaps it’s even been wavering ever since said past occurred. 

It’s not quite heresy, Cere knows, since there is no Order around to say so. The Order is gone, likely  _ because _ they did not possess the knowledge they needed to sense the danger in their midst until it was too late. But to do away with a Jedi’s understanding of the Force in such a way…

Cal doesn’t need the Force to know that Cere is not entirely convinced--it’s written all over her face. Still, he’s made progress, and he’s not about to give up now. So he tries a different tactic:

“Do you think Merrin is evil just because she uses the Force differently than we do?”

“Well, no, but--”

“But she uses the Dark Side, though, right?”

“Yes,” Cere intones in a low voice, uncertain as to where he’s going with this. 

“Then you know the Dark Side doesn’t necessarily mean evil,” Cal finishes. “Just like negative emotions aren’t evil, it’s how you deal with them that counts. Merrin is the most balanced person I know, because she uses both the Light and the Dark Side of the Force. If it’s really even divided like that. There’s so much grey in between, and if we can find that balance, we can learn how to fight the Sith without becoming them. Merrin’s already figured it out. So why can’t we?”

Well...Cere supposes, there really isn’t any reason they can’t. Cal, for all his youth, and trauma, and inexperience, is shaping up to be far wiser than she will ever be. His reasoning has merit,  _ a lot _ of merit, even if it goes against every Jedi lesson she was ever taught. Come to think of it, maybe it’s because of his youth that he is able to come up with such reasoning--the former Padawan isn’t nearly as weighed down by the lessons of his forebears, as the former Jedi is. Or had been. Cere’s not sure anymore.

“You’re...right, Cal.” Admitting that is not easy, not when they’re talking about a power that scares Cere more than anything else in the universe. Still, it has to be done. “I’m not sure exactly how we’ll go about doing that, even with Merrin’s help. She uses the Force very differently than we do--but you’re right. It’s something we will have to explore.”

Cal smiles. “Thank you. You know, I think that’s the first time I’ve actually felt like a Jedi Knight.”

“You’re going to make a fine Jedi Knight,” Cere avows warmly, “if not a very traditional one. You’re already doing great at philosophy. You managed to take what was meant to be a short conversation about the holocron and turn it into a much longer one, but it was necessary. I needed to hear it.”

“About the holocron,” Cal seems to deflate slightly. “I’m sorry, Cere. Destroying it was the right thing to do, but maybe I should have told you first. It meant a lot to me, but I know it meant even more to you, especially after Trilla.”

“No,” Cere shakes her head. “As much as it hurt, I’m glad you did what you did, Cal. It’s not the right time to rebuild the Order, not until the Empire is gone. In the meantime, we won’t search out Force-sensitives, but if we come across one in need, we’ll do everything we can to help.”

“Like you did with me.” Something in Cal’s tone is...slightly off, as he sits back against the backrest, with a faraway look in his eyes. “You might have knighted me Cere, but I’m not fully trained. If I’m going to do that, if I’m going to help other Force-sensitives, I’m going to need your help.”

As if Cere would ever dream of doing otherwise. “You’ll have my support, Cal, I promise.”

This doesn’t produce the nervous, yet grateful smile she was expecting. Instead, Cal goes silent for a moment, seemingly lost inside his own head. He seems almost...indecisive, as if he is wrestling with something internally. Just as Cere is about to ask what’s bothering him, Cal looks up again. He pulls away from the backrest, ignoring how the position is undoubtedly putting pressure on his wound. The look in his eyes is intent, and so is the tone of his voice when he says, “But will I, Cere?”

What an offensive thing to say! And here she thought the conversation was going so well. Cere knows she’s not the Jedi she used to be, but she found him on Bracca, rescued him from the Inquisitors, and has been guiding along his path ever since. It’s only through long years of experience, first as a Jedi, then as a fugitive, that Cere manages to reign in her initial response. Therefore, there’s only a  _ slight _ edge to her voice when she inquires, “What do you mean by that, Cal?”

Cal sighs. This is the last part of the conversation he’s been meaning to have with Cere...ever since he came onboard, really. Offending her isn’t his intent, but he’s not going to shy away from what needs to be said, either. He just...needs to be careful with how he says it, is all.

“When you found me, Cere, when we started this quest...if we succeeded, and kept the holocron, what were you expecting me to do with those kids?”

Cere says nothing, but her confusion permeates the air. Rebuilding the Order was something they  _ both _ wanted at that point. But it’s the details of how such rebuilding might have taken place that Cal wants to discuss. He elaborates, “The Order got a lot of things wrong, but one of the things they got right was that they weren’t alone when it came to training the next generation. Initiates were the responsibility of multiple different Creche-Masters, and even a Master with a Padawan wasn’t expected to go it alone--if they had questions or concerns, there were always other Knights and Masters, or even the Council.”

Cal pauses, to let that sink in. From the way his crewmate, no, his  _ friend's  _ expression is shifting, he knows his words are hitting home as he concludes, “But here, we won’t have that--it’s just me. And I’m only half-trained myself, I can’t do it all. Cere,  _ I’ll need your help.” _

And with that, Cere  _ gets it. _ He’s talking about her opening herself to the Force once more. And she thinks about it--when they started this journey, what  _ had _ she been expecting him to do, if they gathered the children on the holocron while she remained cut off from the Force? She would’ve helped, of course, taught them the things  _ not _ Force-related, like the subjects taught in schools, and offered support and suggestions whenever Cal or one of the students needed it. Taught them the history of the Jedi, and passed on her experiences with it, and the lessons she learned from it. But as for the other things? The control, the meditation, the saber practice, all of the intricacies that went into developing a real understanding of the Force? 

Yes, Cere is ashamed to admit to herself, she was expecting Cal to do  _ all _ of that when he was barely out of childhood, and still lacking training as he pointed out himself. And it’s even worse when she realizes that she expected that  _ in addition  _ to being the main fighter, the main  _ defender _ , of their group like he already is. 

The action they saw on Nur, and the fact that the young Jedi is still recovering from that, with weeks more to go before he’s back to full strength, means that she needs to step up. Cere knows that Merrin will use her not-inconsiderable strength and power to defend them (or, really, mostly Cal, with the rest of them being grouped in by association) to within an inch of her life, but it’s not fair to put that on her like she already put it on Cal. Still…

“You’re right.” There is so much Cal has been right about, and so much Cere herself has been  _ wrong  _ about. But her fear, her old companion, sometimes her  _ only _ companion when things get bad, is still there, still waiting for things to get bad again. She admits, “I’m not sure if I can--the pull is still there, it’s been quieter of late, but it’s still there. The Dark...feels like it’s waiting.” 

“And it always will be,” Cal’s response is swift and firm, and there’s no point in denying it. “But the best way to find balance, to strengthen yourself against it, is to reach for the Light again. I know you can. You did it on Nur, putting up that barrier, right after breaking free from the darkness you’d wrapped yourself in,  _ while _ being confronted by your worst nightmare. That’s big, Cere.”

That barrier. So much had been happening at the time, that Cere had almost completely forgotten about the barrier. It was instinctive, something she had never done before. But seeing Cal struggling to stand up, to reach her right after he’d been run through with his own lightsaber, and hearing his pleas for her to come back to herself...it had touched something in her. Something she had thought long gone. From deep within her, had welled up a source of power Cere had thought forever lost to her. And she had used it. Not to be a Jedi Knight once more, not to protect the universe as a whole, but to save a friend. Her friend, the very one now sitting before her, and pleading for her help.

Slowly, she says, “I hadn’t...thought of it that way before.” Deep down, Cere thinks she’s known of her need to do this ever since Nur. “I just...maybe I wasn’t ready to admit it to myself. It was easier to stay afraid. But you’re right, it was a big step. I’m just not sure where to go from there.”

With a small smile, Cal makes a suggestion, one they’re both very familiar with. “Just like Master Tapal used to say--start with physical preparation.” 

“Moving meditation,” Cere muses.

Cal huffs a small laugh, grateful that that simple action doesn’t set his saber wound alight anymore. “Why do you think I spend so much time tinkering?” 

He certainly does, Cere thinks fondly. It warms her heart whenever she sees him and BD-1--and, increasingly, Merrin--bent over some piece of machinery as they coax it back to life with an enthusiasm that Cere can never hope to emulate. Unwittingly, she thinks back to her hallikset, now tucked away under her bed. Music helped her meditate in the past. Maybe it will help her now.

“I may have an idea for that,” Cere says vaguely, unsure if that’s actually the path she’ll take. They have time, now, time for her to decide. In the meantime, though, she draws herself up, looking her friend straight in the eye and offering him the warmest, truest smile she’s given in a long, long time. “Thank you, Knight Kestis.”

Cal dips his head in acknowledgment, trying and failing to maintain the dignified mien of a traditional Jedi Knight. He gives up, then, and a grin splits his face.

“You’re welcome, Master Junda.”

**Author's Note:**

> The thing with Cere’s expectations of Cal--it took me awhile to realize it, but now that I do, I know she expected far too much of him. He’s just one person, and barely an adult himself. What was she expecting him to do? Be a teacher to an untold number of totally untrained Force-sensitive children and a one-man army to boot? Even half-trained, Cal was incredibly strong and devastatingly effective (to be expected of a lightsaber game) against hordes of stormtroopers and purge troopers, and then the two Inquisitors, so Cere lucked out with the ‘one-man army’ bit. But why didn’t she help him more? I know she was on the comms, but if the only person she could rely on to rebuild the Order was out there fighting for his life against more enemies than it had taken to kill almost all of the Knights with more experience than he, I think she should have offered far more battle-support than she did. I know this is largely the result of it being a single-player game to showcase Cal’s strength, but...that’s way too much for one person. Kudos to Cal for actually managing to meet some of Cere’s expectations, and being wise enough to know when he wouldn’t be able to meet the one they were most concerned with.
> 
> And that’s the beauty of fanfiction--we can make up this stuff whenever canon falls short!
> 
> Well, folks, that’s a wrap for ‘Endgame, Expanded.’ Not to worry, I’ve still got another JFO series in the works...I just have no idea when I’ll actually publish it.


End file.
